


Too Bad You're Not Listening

by Sunshinecackle



Series: Rotten Roses Are Better [1]
Category: Pet Sematary (1989)
Genre: Angst, Ghost!Victor Pascow, M/M, Victor Pascow-Centric, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 07:36:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18406085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshinecackle/pseuds/Sunshinecackle
Summary: If Victor Pascow wasn’t unheard in life and death alike, maybe Louis would have saved himself a lot of pain.





	Too Bad You're Not Listening

**Author's Note:**

> It’s a crying shame that there is absolutely nothing at all for Pet Sematary, and I intend on working with it, like I did with the Bowers Gang for IT. I haven’t seen the new movie, yet, but I will very soon. So, for now, this is the 1989 movie verse, because I have access to that. Also, the book arrived today, and I intend on trying to read it ASAP. I had no idea the first time I watched the miniseries that the Wendigo had anything to do with them, and I adore Wendigos in so many medias. 
> 
> At any rate, have a little testing thing. This mostly focuses on Victor, and I’m going to be honest, I think I wrote him a tad like Kevin Bellinger from Rose Red. But I’ll get a better feeling for him.

“Louis?” Pascow couldn't have been less surprised, or more disappointed. by the sight of Jud drawing Louis out of the Pet Sematary and beyond the barrier. In the light of day, he was hardly something Louis would give a second thought to, and he knew that, but he needed to say it. “Louis! This is a really bad--” Just as he spoke, he watched the idiot doctor take a tumble. Much as he blamed Jud for this, Pascow knew that Louis would have been fooled by one thing or another.

Still, he snickered as the other crashed to the ground, hiding it behind his hand. The sheer amount of self-control it took to keep from trying to scare Louis was wasted the second he realized that a solid 'boo’ might have been able to shake him of this bad, bad idea. 

“Did you even listen to me?” The short answer seemed to be ‘no’. The long answer was, ‘No, no, no, of course not.’ Naturally, the bearer of bad news became a thing of the past when you woke to the sunshine. For the first time in his existence, Victor cursed the reality of parents telling children to forget their ‘nightmares’ in the daylight hours. 

“Louis,” This time, his voice was a quiet growl, and his eyes narrowed out of habit; it hardly did anything to make him look anything more than peeved, “You’re not listenin-- You’re-- Louis-- Louis, you-- _Louis_ , this is the _worst mistake_ \--” It didn’t matter how much he tried to reach out and snag his arm, if he didn’t have Louis’ belief right _now_ , then he wouldn’t be able to swipe at anything but air. His one-eyed glare shifted to Jud, whose name proceeded a rather colorful string of obscenities, and he finally pointed.

“You know what you’re doing, old man. _He’s_ got you, now.” But his warnings, his words, all fell on deaf ears. When he’d been a student, he’d shared the same fate; a face hidden among a thousand, normality, left him unheard. Now, anonymity, sunlight, hiding in the shadows, it left him just the same. Had Louis listened, had he been available, had his mind been pliable enough, maybe he could have skipped the pain laid out bare before him.

As usual, the intuitive Victor Pascow had to sit back and watch, had to let others make their mistakes. He knew better, but they needed to learn.

“But I won’t let you take him.” If renewed vigor was all it took, it wasn’t like Victor was going anywhere. He was stuck just the same as everyone else in this place, so he may as well find something, _anything_ to occupy his time.

**Author's Note:**

> This might be a bit of ventwork, to be honest. Things are kind of rough here and I need a way to vent things out. Writing has always helped me before, and I’m hoping that I can get back to writing more, even if it’s not exactly long or even all that happy. I’ve got a need to purge all of this heartbreak.
> 
> Prompt: **Plasticity - _The capability of being molded, receiving shape, or being made to assume a desired form: the plasticity of social institutions._**


End file.
